Mediocre
So I did a 15minuteficlets in my spare time here. The word was mediocre, and I wrote pre-H/D, and while I didn't exactly get up to the my point, I did allude to it. Basically, it's a plot point in that massive 7th year fic I'm never going to write, when Draco teaches Harry nonverbal spells because, let's face it, Harry's going to get his ass handed to him unless he starts learning, and fast.
Word: 182 - Mediocre
Characters/Pairing: Harry, Draco, mentions of McGonagall, Snape, Voldemort, Narcissa, and the Order. Pre-Harry/Draco.
Word Count: 536
A/N: It's not the best writing of mine, and the style is plain, but it gets the point across. At best, this is a vague sketch. Takes place at the end of the summer, post-HBP.
Harry's nonverbal spells were mediocre, at best. He had spent his entire sixth year in Defense Against the Dark Arts being mad at Snape and obsessing over what Malfoy was doing in the Room of Requirement. His lessons had suffered, but he blamed that mostly on Snape's teaching.
Malfoy, however, had done very well in DADA that year. He was, of course, familiar with the concept of nonverbal spells, and could do some minor ones himself since fourth year. It was also the first year he was taught by what he felt was a more than adequate teacher, and that helped his skills along.
Harry read Defense books during the summer and saw that his only hope in coming close to beating Voldemort in the inevitable duel was to master nonverbal spells. McGonagall was busy during most of the summer, as can only be expected, and his tutelage fell to the most unlikely of masters. With the rest of the Order fulfilling their duties after Dumbledore's death, there were few people around that could help Harry, and he was loathe to admit he needed it.
Snape had showed up at Number 12 Grimmauld Place only a few days after Harry arrived there from his last visit to the Dursleys. He came in the middle of the night, and Harry woke upon hearing quite the ruckus only a story below him. Using Fred's and George's Extendable Ears, he learned that Snape had been able to leave the Death Eaters for long enough to bring, of all people, Malfoy to Headquarters. He needed protection, Snape had said, because while he wasn't sure if Voldemort planned to kill him or not, he definitely wouldn't leave him alone. Harry also heard, although Malfoy did not, that Narcissa was missing, and Snape wanted to keep that fact from Malfoy for as long as possible.
Harry felt a twinge of unease and indignation for Malfoy that surprised himself. He hated when important information about him was kept secret, and he imagined that Malfoy would feel the same way. Plus, he could really care less if Malfoy went out and tried to rescue his mother and got caught by Voldemort along the way. Malfoy, in his mind, deserved whatever he got.
Pushing the thought aside as he heard loud noises from the stairs, Harry quietly got back into bed and watched figures move outside his door. He was shocked, however, when his door opened and he looked upon the emaciated figure of Draco Malfoy. He had circles under his eyes visible even in the semi-darkness of his room, and his skin was paler than Harry had ever seen it. Exile, it seemed, did not agree with him at all. He was thin--too thin--and looked in relief at the empty bed beside Harry before stumbling over and crashing on it, asleep in seconds. He made no indication that he had even seen Harry there.
Snape locked eyes with Harry for only seconds, and Harry, still shocked about the turn of events, could only stare back, hate in his eyes, before Snape closed the door firmly.
The lights shut off in the hallway, and only Draco's breathing could be heard in the silence.
Word: 182 - Mediocre
Characters/Pairing: Harry, Draco, mentions of McGonagall, Snape, Voldemort, Narcissa, and the Order. Pre-Harry/Draco.
Word Count: 536
A/N: It's not the best writing of mine, and the style is plain, but it gets the point across. At best, this is a vague sketch. Takes place at the end of the summer, post-HBP.
Harry's nonverbal spells were mediocre, at best. He had spent his entire sixth year in Defense Against the Dark Arts being mad at Snape and obsessing over what Malfoy was doing in the Room of Requirement. His lessons had suffered, but he blamed that mostly on Snape's teaching.
Malfoy, however, had done very well in DADA that year. He was, of course, familiar with the concept of nonverbal spells, and could do some minor ones himself since fourth year. It was also the first year he was taught by what he felt was a more than adequate teacher, and that helped his skills along.
Harry read Defense books during the summer and saw that his only hope in coming close to beating Voldemort in the inevitable duel was to master nonverbal spells. McGonagall was busy during most of the summer, as can only be expected, and his tutelage fell to the most unlikely of masters. With the rest of the Order fulfilling their duties after Dumbledore's death, there were few people around that could help Harry, and he was loathe to admit he needed it.
Snape had showed up at Number 12 Grimmauld Place only a few days after Harry arrived there from his last visit to the Dursleys. He came in the middle of the night, and Harry woke upon hearing quite the ruckus only a story below him. Using Fred's and George's Extendable Ears, he learned that Snape had been able to leave the Death Eaters for long enough to bring, of all people, Malfoy to Headquarters. He needed protection, Snape had said, because while he wasn't sure if Voldemort planned to kill him or not, he definitely wouldn't leave him alone. Harry also heard, although Malfoy did not, that Narcissa was missing, and Snape wanted to keep that fact from Malfoy for as long as possible.
Harry felt a twinge of unease and indignation for Malfoy that surprised himself. He hated when important information about him was kept secret, and he imagined that Malfoy would feel the same way. Plus, he could really care less if Malfoy went out and tried to rescue his mother and got caught by Voldemort along the way. Malfoy, in his mind, deserved whatever he got.
Pushing the thought aside as he heard loud noises from the stairs, Harry quietly got back into bed and watched figures move outside his door. He was shocked, however, when his door opened and he looked upon the emaciated figure of Draco Malfoy. He had circles under his eyes visible even in the semi-darkness of his room, and his skin was paler than Harry had ever seen it. Exile, it seemed, did not agree with him at all. He was thin--too thin--and looked in relief at the empty bed beside Harry before stumbling over and crashing on it, asleep in seconds. He made no indication that he had even seen Harry there.
Snape locked eyes with Harry for only seconds, and Harry, still shocked about the turn of events, could only stare back, hate in his eyes, before Snape closed the door firmly.
The lights shut off in the hallway, and only Draco's breathing could be heard in the silence.